Just another tour de force for Perlman

For Itzhak Perlman, it was just another concert in a career now in its fifth decade. As one of the world’s most famous violinists, there are few pieces he has not played and few places he has not performed.

Once again, the superstar musician is on a tour, this one nearing its end, so when he walked onto the stage of Royce Hall Thursday night, he understandably looked a little tired. However, once his bow hit the strings of his 1714 Stradivarius, any hint of fatigue disappeared. His vibrant playing possessed the energy of a young musician performing before a sold-out audience for the first time.

This is not to say that the evening was exceptional; in many ways it was routine. The selections were relatively familiar, the interpretations not too daring, but Perlman’s talent is such that even an average night for him contains moments of beauty that can touch the most jaded of concertgoers.

Most of these moments took place during the second movement of Beethoven’s “Spring” Sonata. Accompanied by pianist Janet Goodman Guggenheim, Perlman made this andante’s description -- molto espressivo -- seem like an understatement. His gentle phrasing turned the music into one long, uninterrupted flow of emotion -- at the end, the audience collectively exhaled. The sonata’s other movements -- as well as the entirety of Mozart’s Sonata for Violin and Piano in B-flat major, which opened the concert -- may not have had the sublime tension of the andante, but they did showcase Perlman’s robust sound, as well as Guggenheim’s solid piano playing.

The most interesting piece on the program was Poulenc’s Sonata for Violin and Piano. Perlman played this skittering work in a manner that smoothed out the score’s jagged textures, giving it a more lyrical quality. The piece can sound brooding, almost Hungarian, at times, but in Perlman’s hands it had a zestful, decidedly Gallic flavor.

For an encore, Perlman charmed the audience with his warm patter in between five virtuosic recital chestnuts that ranged from frenzied (Franz Ries’ “Perpetual Motion”) to delicate (Faure’s “Berceuse,” which ended on a silvery sustained note that seemed to soar in the air above the audience).